Green Mohawks are Pretty Too
by Glamek Stalker
Summary: Ebon was a teenager once. And Shiv was there right along with him when he had his hair dyed green. It's just a little bit of a nonsense story. Backgroundishy...I would say. Read if you want.


Ebon seemed so morbid minded and since I played THAW, and saw that dude with the green Mohawk, I felt I had to make one for Ebon. Oh, my mother fucking bad. I also really wanted to put Shiv and Ebon in a bond before the whole Big Bang thing, way way before. As in, they were never really "friends" but Shiv was just persistent.

I had this written a long time ago, and didn't think I'd post it. Then one of my reviewers from Paint it Black wanted me to post more of Ebon. That motivated me enough. So…this would be for Slicer.

In one particular part of this story it might seem a teensy weensy bit slashy between Shiv and Ebon, but it's just physical manner of an enraged boy trying to get his CD player back. I'm sorry. And now, you may read the story.

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Green Mohawks are Pretty Too

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The sixteen-year-old turned his head from side to side, examining himself in his bedroom mirror. His brow furrowed, his lips curled, and he made a disgusted sound. "I don't like it," he grumbled, running his fingers over the hard tips of his green hair. "It don't look right."

"Who cares if it looks right," said the one other person in the room, who was sitting back on the bed, a comic book in his hands. "It's punk. It's not _supposed_ to look right." He raised one pierced eyebrow as he smirked at the other teen by the mirror.

The other just rolled his eyes. It's not like they were friends or anything. He'd only known the Asian teen for three weeks now, and if anything, they were enemies. But for some reason, Scotty-too-Hotty, as he called himself, just didn't seem to register that, or he just didn't care. He still came up to Ivan every day in school, wrapping a lazy arm about his shoulders and asking him 'wus up?'. He acted like they couldn't have been any closer, and also, if they couldn't have been any farther away. Scott was a curious sort. He'd spill everything about his life and his family from his life back in West Chester; he'd spill that his real name was not Scott Gummer, the name of his father, but Li Chang, from his mother. Why he thought Ivan cared about this information, Ivan didn't know. All he knew was, Scott, or Li, or whatever his name was, was really annoying and really wearing on his nerves.

"I ain't no punk," Ivan retorted, glaring at the black haired boy in the mirror. No way he was punk. He couldn't be punk. Things didn't work like that. He'd seen it. People like Scott were punk, with their spiky hair and facial pierces and colorful tattoos and holy and funked up clothes.

Scott clicked his tongue. "Hell if you're not. You listen to punk and you listen to metal, you're room is anything but colorful and oh yeah, you have a Mohawk."

"It wasn't my idea. This was your fault," Ivan said quickly turning around.

"Was it _my_ fault that Harry Vercetti kicked your ass for being "_different"_? Was it _my _fault that none the other rapper lovin', ho lovin', pimpin', blingin' big bad wanna-be gangsta boys didn't wanna have anything to do with you? 'Cept Twitch of course, the little freak."

"It was your fault you got me drunk and it was your fault for giving me that stupid challenge with B.B. and it was you…"

"I what, dude? You ain't got no self-respect for yourself no more. You're all for your little gangsta buddies that don't want nothin' to do with you. I've seen the shit you wrote, I've seen that song in the back of your locker." Ivan froze. This rat had been digging in his locker? What else had he been doing? "The punk rocker thing…I'm feelin' you really got it down man. And you have to accept it."

"I don't see no others out there lookin' like this?" He pointed to his green Mohawk.

"Yeah, well, I don't seen _no others_ out there with their ears pierced at the top neither," Scott said as he leant his chin on his hand while Ivan's hand quickly went up to cover the piercing at the top of his ear. "Or their tongue." Scott shrugged, sticking out his own pierced tongue for emphasis.

"Name me one black man metal star, Scotty."

"What?" Scotty asked, serious for the moment. "Is that what this whole thing is about?" He dropped the comic book on the bed and practically glared at Ivan as he stood up. "Your…race, or whatever? Is that it?" Ivan didn't say anything, just stared angrily into the mirror. "Let me tell you something, dude. You're always gonna be this way. Always. Does it look like I judge crap on race and color and crap? No! After all not only is your step-moms white, but so was your real one. True she was a bitch too…and a whore…Look whatever…just stop. And stop being such a conservative pansy. And now why don't you stop being a big racist baby and admit that you like what I did to your cranial area." And with that, he picked the comic back up and plopped down on the bed, his anger depleted.

Ivan sighed, agitated. Scott didn't know what he was talking about. He was a total dumbass anyways who always had detention and always fucked around and always got in trouble and always asked for attention by doing some stupid stunt or another. He was always at some party and never home. Ivan wasn't even sure if the guy had a home.

Scott just sat there smirking that stupid smirk of his, his baggy clothes hanging loosely off his thin body, a tattoo on his elbow visible. Ivan wanted to go over there and punch that smirk right off his face, but he had to keep his cool for just a little while longer. His dad found out he got in _another_ fight, he'd be in huge trouble. Bad enough he was already grounded and bad enough they still allowed Scott to just come over and take him to get his hair "cut". Scott was such an…such an asshole. And that's just what Ivan called him before turning back to the mirror and running his hands over the Mohawk once again.

"You love me," Scott replied, smiling before going back to the comic book. "You know. Another thing that sets you apart is your comic collection. I mean…The Sandman." He raised another eyebrow at the darker teen. "Bit…morbid are we?"

"Ugh, just, drop it ok?" Ivan demanded.

"You're enthralled aren't you?"

"I'm what?" Ivan asked, brows furrowed even more.

"Entranced by your hair. Hehe. I knew you would be."

"I ain't entranced with my hair. It's just…" he looked back in the mirror and felt the hair hardened by the gel. "It's different. That's all."

Scott smirked his victorious smirk. "You love it."

Ivan sighed. He wouldn't get it through Scott's head that he didn't like the hair. So, without another word, he grabbed his CD player off the desk and sat back against his bed, playing with the loose strings from one of the many holes on his jeans.

As Ivan bobbed his head ever so slightly to the music, his eyes closed, Scott became observant. He pulled the comic book down to his lap and scrutinized the other teen. Ivan was indeed, different. Scott knew. He'd snooped around the room earlier. True, they weren't the best of friends, but for some reason, they hung around each other, were always around each other, all the time. Scott took several guesses on the case. Either they both had some type of bond that wasn't visible, or they each felt they needed the human contact. Either way, he always came to the conclusion. Ivan was different.

"By the way, I love the Black Sabbath collection I found in your closet." And with that, Scott took up the comic again. Unfortunately, Ivan didn't hear him.

As the minutes passed, Scott became more enthralled with Ivan, more his hair than anything else. It was so…green. It just made him smile. He'd never expected Ivan Evans to have a green Mohawk. In fact, when he first saw him, he didn't expect him to have a whole wardrobe of holy jeans and short t-shirts and accessory after accessory filled with loops and D-rings. But that hair. Scott may have gotten the other teen drunk, but it was Ivan who chose that hair. He couldn't help but chuckle at the memory.

Another minute, and Scott was already on his stomach, staring at that dark green Mohawk and, while Ivan was distracted, Scott took his hand and ran his fingers along the spiky top. Immediately, Ivan noticed, and he quick put his CD on pause to turn and look at Scott. "What the heck are you doing?"

Scott quickly jerked his hand away. "I was just…I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders. "Touching your hair. You do realize that now that you have spiky hair people are gonna wanna touch it right?"

Ivan just shook his head. Scott was a dumbass.

In no time, he had started his CD up again, and listened, ignoring Scott's constant staring and smiling as he leant back against the wall. Ivan ignored him as best he could. And for a minute, Scott was quiet enough to be mistaken for not even being there. And then it happened. Without warning, Scott had tackled him to the floor and swiped his CD player away before he could even react. Scott held it out of reach as he pinned Ivan to the ground, his knee in the other teen's back. He held the earphones up to his ears and quickly laughed. "I knew it! I knew you listened to them. And you said they weren't good? Hah!"

"Drop it, Scotty," Ivan insisted as he rolled Scott off of him. "Now!"

"No way, man," Scott said as he backed away, hitting his legs on the bed. "Do you know what people would say if you told them you actually listened to this? This is far worse than a green Mohawk, Ive's. This is the pure, pure, hardcore, new brand of metal. Nu-metal. You are hardcore my friend."

"Scott, no one is gonna know because you're going to give it back."

"Oh no," Scott said, holding up the CD player. "They're gonna know." He poked Ivan in the chest. "They're all gonna know the truth about little Ivan Andre Jerome Evans." He knew that would get Ivan going, his full name, and Ivan quickly responded.

He tackled the taller boy to the bed and wrestled with his arm, trying to retrieve his CD player. "The whole world is gonna know, that you listen to the new metal band of the century," Scott said through laughter as he struggled to keep the player. "I give a shout out, to you my friend, as one of the first kids in our school, long before this CD ever came out, to become a faithful fan of the new band."

"Give it up Scotty. Now!"

"MFKR. Slipknot, mother fucker. Man, I've heard of this CD. It was supposed to come out next week. How the heck did you get it?"

"Scotty, I'm warning you. If you don't drop it right now…"

Scott lost his grip and the player went sailing to the floor, Ivan on top of him, holding his wrists down and straddling his waist. Scott observed the position for a small time, before letting out a giggle. "Awkward position, yes?" he asked with a glint in his eyes.

"Ugh, you sick freak," Ivan said as he rolled off of Scott and climbed down from the bed to retrieve his CD player. "You better not of broke it."

Scott was struggling with fits of laughter before leaning himself on his elbow and rubbing his lip ring with his fingers.

There was a knock at the door, and before Ivan could ask who it was, his little brother came sauntering in, that oh so wonderful twelve year old glory following in his wake. "The hell do you want, Adam?" Ivan said bitterly. Why couldn't Adam just understand, that when Ivan's door was closed, he liked it that way. As in, he didn't want anyone in.

"Mom wants you down for supper. 'For once,' she says."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, she can fuck off." Funny, a long time ago, he'd die to have this woman as his mother, and once he finally did, he treated it like shit. Pure, un-relentless family shit. He rubbed at his forehead as he set the CD player aside. Scott glanced from one brother to the other before sliding his legs off the bed.

"Don't think your parents would mind if I crashed here for the night?" He asked Ivan.

He received a groan before the darker teen collapsed back onto the bed.

"Great. Thanks dude," Scott said, a little too enthusiastically for Ivan's taste.

"Oh yeah," Adam piped up. "Tori called for you."

Ah yes, Tori. Ivan's hopefully soon-to-be girlfriend.

"Did you tell her I'd call her back?" he asked, running his fingers over his forehead.

"No," Adam said simply.

"Well, what did you tell her?" This couldn't be good now.

"That you were gay," Adam said, shrugging one shoulder.

"What?" Ivan bolted into an upright position on the bed.

"She says she wishes you a good life, or something like that, I don't really remember. I think she mentioned something about Scotty and you..."

Scott couldn't help but grin rather widely.

"You fucking rat!" And Ivan leapt off his bed, intent on attacking his little brother. Unfortunately, Adam saw it coming and quick dodged out of the room, Ivan on his heels.

Scott just laughed as he sat back, listening to the pounding of Ivan's boots against the floor as he ran after Adam. "Man," Scott said through a chuckle. "I wish I had one of those." And with that, he picked up the comic of his not-a-real-one-but-pretty-damn-close friend's, and continued on reading.

XXX

In case any body was wondering…THAW is Tony Hawks American Wasteland video game. I'm like, the only one on this site who plays it sometimes I feel. I don't know. Maybe I'm not. I wouldn't know though. Anyway…I hope you liked this.


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